


a dream is a wish your heart makes

by valdera



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magic, Magical Realism, just a short and sweet fic!, mostly in line with canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28119135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valdera/pseuds/valdera
Summary: Kuroo looks at him curiously. “Are you not my friend, then?”Kenma swallows. “No,” he murmurs. “We’re friends. Yeah—we’re friends.” Embarrassed to meet Kuroo’s eyes, he looks down at his jacket and fiddles with the cat pin he had attached a few days ago.“Right,” Kuroo responds, ruffling Kenma’s hair with a gentle touch, like he’s afraid to grab on too hard. “Wish granted. You’re magic.”(5 times Kenma grants Kuroo's wish, and one time Kuroo grants Kenma's)
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 14
Kudos: 99
Collections: Kuroken Christmas Exchange 2020





	a dream is a wish your heart makes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catalysis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catalysis/gifts).



> hello lee!! here's my gift to you for the kuroken christmas exchange!! 
> 
> i've never done a 5+1 before, so that was definitely a new experience for me! also magical realism... not sure if this fic counts lol. anyways, hope you enjoy your gift!

1:

When Kenma first meets Kuroo, the sun is dipping low under the mountains, casting a soft orange gold glow over everything the light touches. The boy he sees has his head low like the night creeping over the sky, sinking the world into peaceful shadow, but his eyes are like piercing stars, staring at him with the intensity of a tiger stalking its prey. 

“Who are you?” the boy asks. 

“Who are _you_?” 

“Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsurou. That’s my name.” 

“Kozume Kenma,” he replies. “Why are you here?”

“I heard… I heard from someone in my class that there was a witch in the forest. And that she would grant wishes.” 

Kenma raises an eyebrow. “Who told you that?” 

Kuroo shrugs. “I don’t really know.” 

“They’re wrong,” Kenma says with a sigh. “There’s never been a witch in this area. Never has been. There’s only me.” 

“Oh,” Kuroo says, blinking up at him. “You’re the witch?” 

Now it’s Kenma that’s staring. “No…?” 

“You are!” Kuroo insists, because children have an unfathomable belief in the idea that they’re right. “Well… are you not old enough to be a witch, maybe?”

Kenma is also a child, but a quiet child, and one who doesn’t have the energy to argue. He shrugs. 

“Can… can you still grant me a wish, then?” 

“Depends,” Kenma says. “Can you pay for it?” 

“I’ll do anything for it,” Kuroo says, sincerely. “I just was going to wish for a friend.” 

“A friend?” 

Kuroo nods. “Just one,” he says. “I think that’s enough.” 

Kenma mulls it over, and then nods. “Buy me a chocolate bar,” he says. “That’s payment.” 

Kuroo digs around in his pockets and emerges victorious with a small pin in his hand. He presses it into the palm of Kenma’s hand. “A gift for you.” The pin is a cute, black cat, outlined shiny with gold. 

As Kuroo runs back home, Kenma raises the pin to the moon, watching as light gleams on its surface. 

* * *

“I don’t understand,” Kenma says. “Why did you give me a gift?” 

“I heard it was polite,” Kuroo says. 

“You seem like you hear a lot of things,” Kenma replies dryly. 

Kuroo wrinkles his nose. “Not really. I just ask a lot of questions. Will you grant my wish now?” 

“I’m working on it,” Kenma says, which is true. He does not mention whether his work will amount to anything or not. 

“Okay,” Kuroo says. “Can I—can I stay here?” 

Kenma shrugs. “Do… do you want to come over?” 

“Really? Can I?”

“Only if you brought chocolate.”

In his excitement, Kuroo thrusts out a solitary Kit-Kat to his face. 

Even at nine years old, he feels cheated. He accepts it anyways and nods, tearing open the wrapper and splitting the Kit-Kat in two. He holds one piece out to Kuroo. 

Kuroo stares. 

“Well?” Kenma says. “Are you coming or not?” 

“Right—right!” Kuroo shouts, taking the offered Kit-Kat and scrambling to follow. 

* * *

A week later, Kuroo asks, “Are we friends?” 

Kenma pauses from where he’s been playing Legend of Zelda. “You’ve been here every day.”

“So, are you?” Kuroo presses. 

“Yeah, sure, we are.”

Kuroo smiles, so wide and unabashed it’s almost embarrassing. It’s easy to forget that Kuroo’s a year older when he’s like this. Easy to forget that the reason Kuroo is here everyday is because Kenma and him never share classes. “So you granted my wish!” he says. “A friend. Wow, that’s clever.” 

Kenma frowns. “That’s not—it’s not really—”

Kuroo looks at him curiously. “Are you not my friend, then?” 

Kenma swallows. “No,” he murmurs. “We’re friends. Yeah—we’re friends.” Embarrassed to meet Kuroo’s eyes, he looks down at his jacket and fiddles with the cat pin he had attached a few days ago. 

“Right,” Kuroo responds, ruffling Kenma’s hair with a gentle touch, like he’s afraid to grab on too hard. “Wish granted. You’re magic.” 

2:

When Kenma meets with Kuroo, it’s only a couple of months before he begins junior high. 

Kuroo’s carrying a Kit-Kat in his hand, and tosses it to Kenma when he passes by. It hits him square in the face and drops down on the sidewalk below. 

As he squats down to pick it up, he hears Kuroo faintly snickering. “You’re the worst,” he mutters. 

“It’s okay,” Kuroo says, fishing around in his jacket pockets before taking out another Kit-Kat. “We can swap.” 

With a sigh, Kenma tears open the wrapper and splits the Kit-Kat in two. “Save it for later,” he says, shoving a piece into Kuroo’s open mouth before taking a bite from his own. 

Still chewing, Kuroo says, “Well, actually I’m invoking my right to have a wish granted again.” 

Kenma pauses and carefully swallows his food. “We’ve been over this before, I can’t—”

“Can’t actually grant wishes, I know, I know,” Kuroo says. “You’re totally a normal human, no magical abilities at all, you just tricked an innocent and naive kid—”

“Not innocent. Idiotic, maybe, not innocent.” 

“Right,” Kuroo says, a slow smile creeping on his face. “Well. I’m making a wish anyways. Join the volleyball team with me.” 

There has to be something about the sun and Kuroo, Kenma thinks. Even if sunset isn’t yet upon them, the sun has found its way to Kuroo’s back, silhouetting him in a flood of soft orange-purple-pink memories, cotton-soft and comforting. Maybe there is a type of magic to it, to wishes from Kuroo’s mouth, because he says yes without thinking. 

It must be a type of binding wish, because it’s the only thing that explains why Kenma joins the team next school year, and stays. 

3:

“I don’t know why Coach Nekomata keeps him around,” Kuroo grumbles, shaking his head. “He’s an asshole.” 

“You’re kind of an asshole, too,” Kenma says, staring intently at his PSP. He’s playing some game that Kuroo has never bothered to ask about, but still carefully watches whenever Kenma invites him over to play videogames. Years later, and it’s still weird that Kuroo, 90% of the time, just sits there while he focuses on his boss battle, but well. There are certainly worse ways to be dysfunctional. Besides, it’s not like Kenma spends most of their time together outright ignoring his existence. It just happens to be that Kuroo and him are the kind of people who know each other, because they’re friends, but don’t actually have that many common interests. With Kuroo, it’s just easier to be quiet, breathe in the shared air, and realize that he’s hanging out with a friend. 

“Really?” Kuroo gasps. “Me?” 

“Well, you definitely look like one,” Kenma says wryly, gesturing to his face. “You look shady.” 

Kuroo tugs at a strand of his hair, now dyed blond. “I think out of the two of us, you’re the delinquent here,” he laughs. His hand lingers, the strand of Kenma’s hair still twisted around his finger. “Seriously, though,” he sighs. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” 

Kenma closes his eyes. “Honestly, I’ve been thinking about quitting.”

Kuroo’s hand freezes where it is. “Really?” 

“It’s just… tiresome,” he mutters. 

“You’re better than all of them,” Kuroo mutters, carding his fingers through Kenma’s hair. It’s not something he’s done before, but it doesn’t feel unnatural in the slightest. “You know that.” 

He hums in a passive agreement. “Maybe. Maybe not. Is it really worth it?” He hears a faint rustling as Kuroo rummages through his pockets, and the familiar shape of a Kit-Kat is pressed against his cheek. 

“I’m invoking my wish rights again,” Kuroo declares. 

Whether he’s making a wish or not, Kuroo always seems to have Kit-Kats on hand. It’s not like they’re even his favorite type of chocolate, but they are Kenma’s favorite, so he has no complaints. He tears open the wrapper without much fanfare. It’s only natural that Kuroo would remove his hands from his hair at some point, and it’s fine, but it was also fine when his hands were there, and that’s a confusing thought to grapple with in his head. It makes sense, of course, but the fact that it does is maybe what is worse. “I can’t make all of the upperclassmen disappear, Kuroo.” 

“I mean, I’m basically paying you double price.” Kuroo nods at the Kit-Kat. “In a much more direct way, I’d wish they would stop harassing you. Can’t you hex them or something?”

Kenma rolls his eyes, snaps his Kit-Kat in two, and offers half to Kuroo. “Not paying me double price,” he says. “And no.” 

“I mean it, Kenma.” Kuroo says. “I wish they would stop bothering you. I wish they could realize how amazing and talented and smart you are. I wish that you could be our official setter and then they’d have to acknowledge your talent. I wish—” 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

“Okay,” Kenma repeats, “I’ll grant your wish.” He takes a bite out of the Kit-Kat. “Official setter, that is. I’ll grant that one.”

Kuroo’s eyes glitter. “I was just going to wish that other people understood how magical you are, but if you're our official setter, that’s even better.” 

“It’s because you’re so obsessed with volleyball—magical?” 

“Always,” Kuroo promises. “You’ve never failed a wish from me before.”

“Well, you’ll have to give me the rest of the year to pull it off,” Kenma says. “By my second year, I’ll have enough magic to perform the spell.”

Kuroo bends down to his height, smiling. “Don’t your spells rely on time a little too much?” 

Kenma shrugs. “If the person asking is so cheap, then sure.” 

“Hey,” Kuroo says, “I’m the only one asking, though.” 

Kenma nods. Despite himself, a smile tugs at his lips. 

4:

Rainy days are a particular type of torture, something Kenma neither hates nor dreads nor fears, but horrible all the same. There’s nothing particularly hateful about rain—it’s just rain, and the skies turn a heavy, weighted gray, and the color seems to flow out from people’s bodies until they almost become floating shells. 

“Kuroo,” Kenma murmurs. The aforementioned person is curled up in his bed, cocooned in a soft, thick comforter. 

Kuroo lets the comforter drop from his handstand pool around his legs. “Kenma!” he says. “I didn’t—I didn’t know you were visiting today. Are my… are my parents—”

“You left your door unlocked,” Kenma answers. “I just let myself in to make sure you didn’t get killed.” 

“How nice of you,” Kuroo says, but it doesn’t have the same bite to it that it usually does. 

The rain is beating against the window right beside Kuroo’s bed. It feels like poor design to have your bed right by the window, but Kuroo enjoys staring at the night sky, so maybe it’s not that strange for him. Today, though, he doesn’t seem to even want to acknowledge the window’s existence. “I don’t want to be rude,” he says, “but you look horrible today.”

“I wish it wasn’t raining,” Kuroo mutters. He growls into the crevice of his legs. “Never mind,” he says. “That wasn’t a serious wish.” 

“Do you have a Kit-Kat?” Kenma asks. 

Kuroo’s head snaps up. “...No?” 

Kenma tilts his head. “Okay,” he says. “Close your eyes for one minute.” 

He receives a bitter, stinging laugh in response. “I know your wishes are time based, Kenma, but this is new. A rain that heavy won’t quiet down in just a minute.” 

“Close your eyes,” Kenma repeats. 

Kuroo looks at him curiously, but dutifully flutters his eyes shut. 

Kenma takes in a deep breath. He stares outside at the window, and the rain pouring down hard, and then looks at the line of Kuroo’s spine as he curls into himself, the wrinkles in his forehead from his frown, the soft, measured breathing as he settles down. 

The rain first slows to a light, pitter-pattering drizzle, hissing against the walls of the house, and then fades into silence. The sun breaks through the clouds, and light streams in through the window behind Kuroo, silhouetting him in shadow and light. 

“You can open your eyes now.” 

Still frowning, Kuroo opens his eyes, and his mouth falls open with a gasp. “Kenma…” he says. A brilliant rainbow arcs over the sky, colors vivid enough to touch. 

He feels a little dizzy, so he sits down on the floor. “I told you it would happen.” 

“Are you… Do you want me to get you a Kit-Kat?” Kuroo asks. 

Kenma shakes his head. The walls are swaying a little bit around him, so it takes a few seconds before he’s able to respond. “Consider it… I don’t know. A friend discount.” 

“We’ve been friends for years, though,” Kuroo says, and a warm, bubbly contentment rises in Kenma’s chest. 

“Yeah,” Kenma agrees. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Kuroo stares at him like he’s trying to figure something out. “Kenma?” 

“Hm?” 

“I’m… I’m glad you’re here with me,” Kuroo says. “Rain or not. I’m just happy you’re here.”

Kenma smiles. His heartbeat flutters in his chest. The real magic, he thinks, has to be hidden somewhere in this room, blooming in the space between them above the damp ground, extending its vines to tie them together. 

5:

A few days after Nationals, Kenma finds Kuroo facing the sunset, sitting at the same place they had first met. He doesn’t seem to hear Kenma approach him from behind, so Kenma keeps his footsteps quiet and floats along the leaves before settling down next to him.

“Kenma.”

“How’d you know it was me?” Kenma asks. 

“Who else would it be?” Kuroo says. “Also I think I can recognize your breathing.” 

Kenma wrinkles his nose. “Really?” 

Kuroo shrugs. “Strangest superpower ever, but yeah. Here, catch.” He tosses a Kit-Kat into Kenma’s open hands. 

“Do you want something?” 

“Can’t I just be nice out of the goodness of my heart?” Kuroo argues, pouting. 

As always, Kenma splits the Kit-Kat in two. “Of course. You’re very nice. The nicest person I know.” It’s meant to be a joke, but the words come out embarrassingly sincere. 

“Thanks,” Kuroo says with a strangled voice. He takes half of the Kit-Kat and sighs. “I’ve just been… you know. Thinking?” 

“About college?” 

He nods. “I mean, I know what I’m doing, it’s just…” Kuroo gives the ground a determined look. “I’m going to really miss you.” 

“Oh.” Anything he might’ve said disappears from his head. He wants to reach out and grab Kuroo’s hand and promise him that it will be fine, but the truth is that even he doesn’t know what’s going to happen between the two of them. 

Kuroo turns to look at him, ears pink. “Oh? I bare my heart out to you, and that’s all you have to say.”

Kenma swallows. “Me too,” he mutters. “I’d—I’m going to miss you, too.” He blinks quickly, eyes watery. “ _Obviously_.” 

“Obviously,” Kuroo repeats, disbelief evident in my voice. 

“You’re—important. You know that.” 

Kuroo grabs his hand, squeezing it in reassurance. “I do know. I just… wish we could somehow stay together forever.” He pauses. “That’s—that’s not an actual wish, I’m not trying to force you into—” 

“I don’t mind,” Kenma says. 

“...Really?” 

“If you want to make it a wish, it’s a wish,” Kenma says. “Together doesn’t have to be—physical distance is fine. As long as we just… keep talking to each other, and manage to see each other, that’s a perfectly achievable wish.” 

“Achievable,” Kuroo snorts. “Aren’t wishes supposed to be miracles or something?”

“Well, you never ask for any miracles,” Kenma points out. 

“Maybe it’s because you’re the miracle,” Kuroo teases. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Kenma sighs. Kuroo is still holding his hand. They sit there for a while longer, and Kenma savors the warmth from where their fingers intertwine. 

+1: 

The rain is pouring down again, swathing the sky in thick grey, and the time seems to tick in a sluggish, torturous motion. Kenma doesn’t hate it—it’s rain, it’s whatever, he doesn’t go outside anyways—but it makes him feel lonely all the same. 

Even without the rain, today is a particularly slow day. Volleyball practices have been progressing at a reasonable rate, and classes haven’t been too tough. It feels like they should be tougher, now that they’re in their final year and now that Kuroo isn’t here anymore, but it’s not. Somehow, that’s more frustrating. If classes were harder, maybe something could occupy his time, but instead he’s just lying down in bed, thinking about how much he misses Kuroo. 

In the corner of his vision is the cat pin Kuroo had gifted them all those years ago, placed in the center of his nightstand where he’ll never forget about it. He passes over the pin and grabs his phone, checking it to stare at the simple _ttyl!_ Kuroo had sent a few hours ago. He wonders if it's too soon to text him again. If he can type out something like _wish you were here_ and feel his cheeks grow warm with Kuroo’s reply. There’s no one in the world who makes him feel quite like this, but, he supposes, that’s what being in love with your best friend is like. He groans. He really wishes Kuroo was here. If he could somehow teleport to his doorstep and just stay for even a few minutes, just so Kenma could see him again— 

There’s a hesitant knock on his door. Kenma flies out of bed in an uncharacteristic display of energy. He doesn’t really think he’s powerful enough to somehow throw Kuroo an unimaginable distance with the power of his mind alone, but maybe, just maybe—

He throws the door open, and like his wildest dreams, Kuroo is there, squinting up at the rain. Kenma squeezes him in a tight hug. 

“Whoa,” Kuroo says, nervous laughter bubbling up from his throat. “Kenma, you’re—wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that excited.” 

“I—it’s _you_ , of course I’d be excited,” Kenma babbles, “and you didn’t tell me—”

“I just… I don’t know, I had a feeling,” Kuroo says with a shrug. “So I decided to visit.” 

Kenma smiles up at him so wide his cheeks hurt. “Like magic.” 

“Can I kiss you?” Kuroo blurts out. Then he flushes a brilliant, splotchy pink. “Uh, you can just—”

“Yeah, definitely,” Kenma breathes, feeling the most alive he has in months. “I’m—well, you should already know. You do know, right?” 

Kuroo smiles. “I do.” 

The rain is still coming down hard, but there’s magic between the two of them, and that’s why the clouds clear away in the sky while Kenma pulls Kuroo down for a kiss, the two of them curtained by the glow of the sun. 

**Author's Note:**

> i started out this fic wanting to write minimal dialogue and go description heavy. this fic turned out to be majority dialogue and minimal description haha… 
> 
> does kenma actually have magic? yes! no! whatever u want to think is true!
> 
> find me @ sonnets-of-beauty on tumblr!


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